


The King's Favorite

by The_Plaid_Slytherin



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Kings & Queens, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:00:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23531233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/pseuds/The_Plaid_Slytherin
Summary: Vespyr is newly crowned and still navigating his place at court. Luckily, he has a partner in the endeavor .
Relationships: King with Low Popular Approval Ratings/Universally Liked Male Royal Favorite, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 10
Kudos: 79
Collections: Smut 4 Smut 2020





	The King's Favorite

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fleurting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurting/gifts).



"Smile." Percy's own smile was tight and fixed; he said this out of the corner of his mouth.

Vespyr lifted the corners of his mouth as two ministers of state advanced toward him. He hated banquets. He hated people. 

At least, he hated having to interact with people, aside from Percy.

Although sometimes even Percy stretched his patience, he thought, watching as Percy moved across the ballroom to talk to the Duchess of Deverre. 

_Don't be jealous_ , Vespyr told himself. _That's just how he is. It isn't as if he's doing it for no reason._

He could not think about Percy now, anyway. He had to talk to these ministers who still did not trust him.

This did not mean Percy was entirely absent from his mind, though, and he could not imagine his ministers respected him more for his distracted expression as he watched Percy glide across the ballroom with one or another of his partners. It was hard not to be jealous. Percy was handsome and universally beloved.

Vespyr could not for the life of him work out what Percy saw in him. He was the opposite of handsome, looking like a sad shadow next to Percy. 

_At least court life suits him_ , he thought, sipping his wine, having finally thrown off his ministers. _I am already miserable after three months._ Percy had been born for court, not for life as a sailmaker's son. _That was at least one good thing about Kirvan up and dying on me._

It was still painful to think about, the night the messenger on horseback had pounded on the door of his seaside villa, awakening Vespyr and Percy with the news that the king had sickened and died suddenly. 

He remembered the look in Percy's eyes, too—it had been fear. Fear that Vespyr would leave him behind or discard him like an unwanted plaything. 

He had not done that. He had brought Percy to court and he had sparkled like the jewel he was. 

People had not quite taken to Vespyr the same way, their odd. plain (though no one would say this to his face) prince who had fled to the coast to spend his days locked up with his hammer, chisel, and block of marble. 

"Your Highness." 

Vespyr glanced up, and the minister of regnal affairs, who had been standing right beside him took a step back. He tried to smile before remembering that his smile usually frightened people. The minster of regnal affairs did look nervous. 

"What is it?" he said, hoping he did not look too unpleasant. He knew the things they said about him behind his back. 

The minister swallowed hard. "I just need you to sign this, Your Highness." 

"Now?" Vespyr's gaze was still following Percy. 

"Yes, Your Highness. If it isn't too much trouble."

"No. It will get me out of this cursed place a moment." 

He followed the silent minister to the little room off the hall where a circle of men were gathered. Having left for the coast almost as soon as he'd attained the age of majority meant that most of these men had not met him until he had come back to take Kirvan's place; only a few had been his father's ministers. They were all staring at him, as though they _still_ did not know what to make of him. 

"The trade agreement with Baresteia," his minister of foreign affairs said. 

Vespyr pulled the parchment towards him. "With the provisions I asked for?" 

There was a sigh. "Yes. The port at Lucarra will handle the bulk of the shipments." 

"Good." 

There were whispers among the men as Vespyr proceeded still to read the entire thing. He had learned from Kirvan to never be too careful. Evidently their father had left off reading the things he signed and Kirvan had spent years undoing that. 

Now it was Vespyr's job to finish undoing the damage their father had done and get his ministers to trust him, all while trying to root out the bad seeds that had caused all the problems that had been dumped in Kirvan's and now Vespyr's lap in the first place. 

The whispers continued until he at last signed his name and saw the agreement sealed.

"Thank you, my lords," he said. "Now we can return to the ballroom." 

_And the sooner this party is finished, the better._

The ballroom was in high spirits when he returned; he could see Percy laughing with two of his other advisors. Vespyr dismissed the spurt of jealousy he felt. Percy could flirt with anyone and used it to great effect. Perhaps there was something wrong with him, but he found he wanted Percy more after watching one of these episodes. He was well past the point of not trusting Percy's faithfulness; there had already been whispers throughout the court of the foolish king whose favorite was everywhere but at his side. The king brought him from the seaside and titled him, they said, but Lord Percellus has his eyes set elsewhere. Percy's eyes did indeed rest on Vespyr, an acknowledgement of his return that would have dispelled any doubts should he have had them. 

Vespyr paced the ballroom, taking a drink that was offered him. Perhaps if this part had been set for him, he would play it—and then, perhaps one day soon, they would have things exactly as they wanted them and could leave off the charade. A court that was actually loyal to him, once he'd got out all the rot and finished what Kirvan had started. 

And then, perhaps, he could give Percy what he deserved. 

**

He had not been long out of the hall when he heard footsteps behind him. 

"Took you long enough." 

Percy came up behind him, slipping an arm about his waist. "Lord Mouren can probably be brought over to our side. He's rather pliant. Putty in my hands." 

Vespyr said nothing. 

Percy nudged him. "You don't really think I'd fuck him?" 

"No. Of course not." Vespyr slipped his arm around Percy's shoulders, pulling him close so he could smell the lavender scent he used. "I just wondered if we're no better than them now." 

"Pshaw." Percy's free hand moved up his back to tug at his hair. "Remember why we're doing this. It's for the good of the realm; we can't be worse than them."

Vespyr took this affection as a sign to let his hand slide lower to grip Percy's backside. "When did you get so patriotic?" 

"When I started fucking the king." Percy whispered this into his mouth; surely he knew it would render him hard almost instantly. 

Vespyr glanced back over his shoulder before pushing Percy into an alcove. "Is that it, then? You only want me for my crown." 

He relished the gleam in Percy's eyes. "You hardly ever wear your crown." He tugged Vespyr closer so that his erection pressed into Percy's thigh. "Sometimes I wish you would." His hands went to Vespyr's neck, tugging him down for a kiss. 

Vespyr met Percy's lips open-mouthed and hungry. He was aware that he'd made a noise and Percy made an amused sound. 

"Don't get too eager," he murmured. "Unless you want your trousers off here." His hands moved tantalizingly down Vespyr's chest. "Or I could just let you come in them."

Vespyr groaned. "Percy…"

"Or we could move." His fingers played over the buttons of Vespyr's shirt. "Or I could start undoing these here." 

He undid the first button, letting his fingers brush Vespyr's exposed skin. Vespyr swallowed his next breath. He very well could come right there; it was within Percy's powers to make that happen. The second button slipped free from its fastening. Vespyr glanced down at what seemed to be an endless line of buttons running down to his waist. 

Percy pushed the doublet out of the way and pushed his shirt down to kiss his collarbone. 

"I will tear these clothes off."

"And make more work for your tailors." 

"Percy." His voice came out as little more than a growl. 

"All right." Percy kissed him slowly, lingering long. "Let's go." He took Vespyr's hand and led him out of the alcove. Vespyr allowed himself to be pulled along, his gaze fixed on Percy's hair and the way the torches in the hall lit the gold strands in it. 

"You're staring." 

Vespyr cleared his throat. "I believe that is my prerogative as your king. Am I not allowed to stare at one of my subjects?" 

Percy looked back over his shoulder. "I suppose you like what you see." 

They were on the stairs now and Vespyr had to suppress the urge to scoop him up in his arms. 

"I could have sculpted your arse," he said, reaching for it. "I wanted to." 

"Mm." Percy stepped out of his grasp and out of the stairwell. "You certainly drew it enough." 

Vespyr had indeed gotten more than nude sketches of Percy than he strictly needed to complete his sculpture. Which he would never do now. 

"Come on," he said, seizing Percy's arm and leading him down the hall. At least being king had its benefits—extensive apartments and an enormous bedroom. 

"Now," Percy said, slipping his arms around Vespyr's neck. "What were you saying about my arse?" 

"That I could have sculpted it." His hand found the curve of it again, through Percy's robe. 

"You still could." Percy's lips settled in the hollow of his neck.

"Not now." Why was he going to talk about this now? 

"If I know one thing, it's that the king gets to do whatever he wants. If he wants to sculpt his lover's arse, he should do so." 

"It would not be… seemly." 

"Since when do you care?" Percy turned his attention back to Vespyr's buttons, though the speed at which he undid them had increased from when they'd been crammed in the alcove. "You couldn't give a toss for seemliness." 

"Maybe…" Vespyr watched him thoughtfully. Percy had reached the end of his doublet and he shrugged his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. 

"When we get all right with court," he said, pulling his shirt out of his trousers, "then we will get you a block of marble and you can get to work on my arse." 

Any of the moment that had been lost on his own worries instantly evaporated. 

"Your arse needs little work besides my cock in it," he murmured, taking the liberty of reaching again for it. Percy assured him the robes were perfectly fashionable, but they left too much to the imagination. 

"You are getting a little ahead of yourself, Your Highness." Percy worked Vespyr's shirt off over his head. "Whose cock will be in whose arse, exactly?" 

Vespyr went for the fastenings on his robes. He wondered how much influence he could have as king over the tastemakers; these things were beastly to undo. At last it fell away and he kissed Percy hungrily, wanting to make up for time wasted in undressing him. His fingers fumbled to unlace Percy's trousers; he was hard, too, and Vespyr felt himself grow harder still at the thought of immortalizing Percy's cock in marble. 

"Ves…" Percy's voice came out as little more than a whisper, and Vespyr felt a thrill of satisfaction at what he was able to do to him. His eyes were closed and his lips slightly parted; he looked quite wanton in the dim light from the fire. Vespyr was glad they had not called a servant to light the lights. 

He very much liked what he was seeing. 

He drew Percy's trousers down and knelt. Percy was still and silent save the sound of his breathing. Vespyr did not hesitate any longer before taking him in his mouth. Percy let out a strangled gasp as Vespyr teased just the tip of his cock with his tongue. He had an impulse to make this last as long as possible. 

He sucked slowly, savoring Percy's cock. He longed to tell him just how perfect it was, but of course, he was hampered by having it in his mouth. Hopefully, the care he was taking would demonstrate how he felt—running his tongue over every perfect inch, gently kissing his balls, taking him as deep as he could. Percy moaned and rolled his hips, though he seemed to be trying to hold back. 

"Not yet," Vespyr murmured. "You promised to fuck me. Would you betray a promise to your king?" 

Percy let out a breath through his teeth. "Fuck the king." 

Vespyr smirked. "That's the spirit."

Percy yanked Vepyr's trousers down, nearly knocking him over. "Boots off," he said. "Bed. As soon as possible, Your Highness." 

Vespyr did not need to hear this twice. He had complied with all Percy's instructions, his bare body hitting the sheets before Percy approached with the oil. 

"Do I satisfy, my lord?" 

Percy shook his head ruefully. 

"Be happy with that," Vespyr warned, "or I'll give you another title." 

Percy rolled his eyes. "Flip over." 

Vespyr did, cock straining with anticipation. He knew how lucky he was that Percy had not abandoned him—far from it, in fact, as he was now a partner in their little venture. 

_Our little venture of ruling a kingdom_.

"Arse up, sire," Percy said dryly.

Vespyr complied. 

"Now, _your_ arse is sculptable. Would you ever consider that?" One slick finger slipped inside, just teasing him and he squirmed, trying to get Percy to touch the spot he was so close to. 

"Only with your cock in it." 

"Mmm… you would do that? Doesn't sound very seemly." 

Vespyr grunted. Any thought of propriety and seemliness was as far as can be from his mind. If the entire court walked in at that very moment, he would still want Percy to fuck him. Well, perhaps that was a bit of an extreme situation, but it was far too unlikely for him to have to make a ruling on it. 

"Fuck me, Percy." 

Thankfully, Percy at last listened to him and eased slowly inside without further preamble. 

Vespyr let out a long, satisfied groan. 

"You like that, do you?" Percy leaned down to kiss the back of his neck. His hips moved slowly, sending tremors through Vespyr's body. He choked back any other comment; the entire world was reduced to the movements of Percy's body and his cock hitting that place of concentrated pleasure. 

"Yes," he finally managed, feeling Percy wanted some kind of response. "I like it. Percy, please." 

Percy stopped. "What was that?" 

" _Please_." It was little more than a growl, but it was enough for Percy, thankfully. He increased the speed of his thrusts and from his ragged breathing, Vespyr could tell he, too, was ready for this to be over. 

Percy's climax heralded his own and he lay, shuddering on the bed, unable even to hold himself up as the waves of pleasure coursed through him. The next thing of which he was aware was Percy pulling out and collapsing next to him. They did not speak for several minutes. 

"Do you want me to leave?" Percy asked. His breath was still a bit short and Vespyr turned to study the way he looked after having just come. His face was still flush, his eyes dark, his hair wild over his forehead. 

"Never." Vespyr pushed back one red-gold curl. 

"My clothes—" 

"If anyone comes… let them see." Vespyr yawned. Perhaps his ministers would like him better if they knew he was human. 

Percy smirked and wrapped his arm around Vespyr's chest, burying his face in his shoulder. "Is that how it's going to be now?" 

"If you don't mind." 

"I'll be whatever you want me to be." 

Vespyr closed his eyes and kissed the top of Percy's head. He did not feel nearly so trapped now. Perhaps he would order his things sent from the villa tomorrow. He had a sculpture to finish.


End file.
